


now my soul beats a sound loud enough to quiet the thunder

by colazitron



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Baking, Birthday, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: Isak takes the responsibility of Even's birthday breakfast very seriously. There's eggs, crisp bread, baking, and accidental soul searching.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, remember when everyone wrote about Isak failing at baking for Even for his birthday? Well, I saw that and thought "no way does Isak I-got-a-fucking-six-in-biolgoy Valtersen not know how to follow instructions, that boy is a _scientist_ , instructions are his _jam_ ". So I set out to write a small drabble-ish thing about Isak baking successfully and, um, two months later??? This happened??? It's more of a two week slice of Isak (and Even's) life now. Oops.
> 
> Heavily inspired by [this delightful gifset](http://fille-lioncelle.tumblr.com/post/157148549762/tocapturethisvoice-au-even-celebrating-his-20th) by the lovely [tocapturethisvoice](http://tocapturethisvoice.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr.
> 
> The title is lyrics from [Oh Wonder's "Body Gold"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Ufw5oIcw2o), which you should all go listen to (and then go listen to all the rest of Oh Wonder's music, as it's lovely).

It starts early February, when Even tells him his parents want to have a late lunch/early dinner together for Even's birthday and invited Isak to come, but that Even would like to spend the night from Saturday to Sunday here at the apartment with Isak, and would that be alright with Isak? It is, of course, more than alright with Isak. He loves having Even here, loves the quiet moments in his room when they don't do anything but lie in bed, and talk, and kiss. He loves falling asleep like that, and loves waking up to doing it all over again.

But it does leave him with a responsibility that hadn't occurred to him before (and that Even would probably tease him for taking seriously), namely Even's birthday breakfast.

When Isak had been little, birthday breakfasts had been the thing he most looked forward to about his birthday, even more so than the presents. His mum would make cake the night before, and breakfast would consist of Isak's favourite fruit juice, hot cocoa, and cake. Even when things had gotten bad at home, birthday breakfasts were still sacred in the Valtersen household. (Well, except for Isak's last birthday, but he wasn't exactly at home that day.)

So, while Isak knows by now that Even prefers a savoury breakfast to a sweet one, it still feels wrong to start a birthday off without a slice of cake. Which means that Isak will have to procure a cake. The easiest way to do that, of course, would be to buy one, or even just two slices for Even and him to have for breakfast, but that feels so… impersonal, somehow. On the other hand, if Isak's not buying the cake, then that means he has to bake it, and he's never done that before. Probably, one's first foray into baking shouldn't be one's boyfriend's birthday cake, but Isak figures it can't be all that hard. He has two weeks to prepare after all.

To begin with, he starts googling recipes, ignoring anything with words he doesn't understand, or too many steps that seem like too many things could go wrong. He settles on a bløtkake, because it seems easy and everyone likes it, after all, and even though the middle of February isn't exactly the best time for fresh fruit in Oslo, Isak figures he can just use sprinkles instead for decoration. Even seems like the type to like sprinkles.

So, cake decided on, he turns to youtube, watching video after video of people mixing dough, putting it in cake pans, whipping cream, and assembling the cake. There's a few who make vanilla custard to go with the filling, which Isak is definitely not going to attempt to make, but there's this one girl who just uses pre-packaged vanilla pudding, so Isak makes a note of that. Someone else explains that folding beaten egg whites in is easiest in portions, and a third person shows how they use baking parchment to keep the presentation platter from getting dirty when coating the assembled cake in cream. It's not like anyone in the flatshare owns something like a proper cake platter (as far as Isak's aware at least), but it'll still be best to keep the plate he puts it on neat, Isak thinks. He takes notes of everything, feeling only slightly silly, and then jots down the ingredients he needs.

First, though, he needs to find out if they even own a cake pan.

“What exactly are you doing?” Noora asks, when she finds him rifling through the kitchen cupboards.

Isak whirls around, staring at her in surprise, and bites at the inside of his cheek as he quickly weighs his options. He had hoped to keep this whole baking thing to himself, but he also knows that idea was only ever a pipe dream. With the four of them here now you can hardly take a step without bumping into someone. There's no way no one would've found him baking his little heart out anyway.

“Do we own a cake pan?” he asks.

“A cake pan?” Noora echoes incredulously.

“Yeah, a cake pan. For baking cakes in,” Isak says and rolls his eyes.

Noora huffs, but brushes past him and pulls open one of the overhead cabinets. Isak looks up and sees a round cakepan sitting at the very back of the shelf, reaching up to grab it. It seems smaller than cakes usually do, and Isak frowns at it.

“Is it me or are these things usually bigger?” he asks.

“No, it's not you,” Noora laughs. “I just only ever made small cakes when I bought this. Do you need a bigger one?”

“No, this'll be fine,” Isak says. He'll just have to somehow calculate by how much he needs to cut the ingredients.

“Are you… planning on baking a cake?” Noora asks, intrigued, while Isak opens the ring of the cake pan and then puts it back together, just to see how it works.

“Er, yeah, it's Even's birthday soon, so...” he says and trails off with a shrug.

Noora smiles. “That's nice of you.”

“Thanks,” Isak says.

“Have… you ever baked a cake before?” she asks, carefully.

“No, but I've googled recipes and watched a lot of tutorials,” Isak says.

“Do you want any help?” Noora offers.

Isak shakes his head. “No, I… I'd like to do it by myself,” he says.

Noora nods and smiles a little, like she understands the warm coal glowing inside his heart whenever he thinks of Even. Maybe – probably – the cake won't be perfect, but Isak is fairly confident he can make it _edible_ , and it's the gesture that counts more than the actual cake, he thinks.

“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, you can always ask me,” she says, and then leaves him alone in the kitchen.

 

A week before Even's birthday, Isak suddenly thinks that maybe he should try baking the cake before serving it to Even. Just to be on the safe side. Like a test run. That's probably a good idea, right? Even's busy this weekend  anyway , and there wasn't much homework to be done, so he's  not really got anything to do. Noora's staying with Eva, and Eskild left the  apartment earlier shouting not to wait up for him. Linn is unlikely to leave her room.

So Isak grabs his prepared shopping list, wallet, and phone, slips into shoes and a jacket, and sets off to the supermarket further down the road. Standing in front of the baking aisle, he's suddenly really glad he decided to do this, because who knew there were this many different types of flour? Isak leans closer to inspect the packages, and finally grabs one that says it's best suited to baking cakes and the like. The rest of the things he needs is rather easy to find, so he's back in the apartment in no time.

With the ingredients lined up on the counter it suddenly seems a little bit daunting, so Isak puts  on  the playlist Even made on his spotify account, and watches the video he's decided to follow again. He practically knows it by heart now, but no one's ever accused Isak of not being diligent. (Actually, quite a few people have, but  _point is_ when Isak cares to do something well, he'll double and triple check to make sure he is indeed doing everything right.)

Then he gets to work.

He measures all the dry ingredients first, mixing them – safe for the sugar – in a large bowl and setting it aside. Then he separates the eggs and beats the egg whites (which, since he hasn't found an electric mixer, is _a bitch, who knew?_ ), and sets those aside too. He mixes the sugar, butter, and egg yolks in a third bowl (who would have guessed baking one cake would require this many bowls?), and then adds the flour mixture and the milk, stirring until the batter is somewhat smooth. It looks like the one in the video, at least, so he figures that's got to be good enough. Now for the egg whites.

While mixing them in, he keeps worrying he's stirring everything too hard, beating all the air out of it, or whatever the reason is that one shouldn't overdo the mixing with fluffed up egg whites, but by the time everything's combined into one smooth mixture again, it does seem fluffier than before, so Isak allows himself a little grin. Seems well done.

All that's left is grease the cake pan, pour the batter in, and bake it. Which is, of course, the moment Isak realises he's forgotten to preheat the oven.

“That's okay. That's why we're doing a test run,” he mumbles to himself, and checks the recipe to make sure he sets the oven to the correct temperature.

The kitchen looks like a complete disaster, somehow, by the time Isak puts the cake in the oven, so he decides to clean up a little while he waits. He'll have to get rid of all the evidence anyway, if he wants to avoid Eskild getting on his case about this stupid cake --- fuck, the cake. How on Earth is he supposed to hide the cake?

Groaning, Isak sinks into one of the chairs by the kitchen table, but before he can try and decide if it's possible to hide the cake in Isak's shelf in the fridge, his phone dings with a message. And then another one. And another one.

 

**Cat-fucker and friends**

Jonas: Oioi

Mahdi: wassup?

Magnus: anyone else bored?

Jonas: Issy you busy? Wanna hang? Just the gang?

Magnus: hahaha yes let's!

Bit busy

Magnus: Booo!

Jonas: Can we hang at yours? You can finish whatever till we're there?

Magnus: Yeeeah! Come on, Isak!

Ugh fine

 

So much for Isak keeping this to himself, but blowing off his friends just because he's _baking_ doesn't really seem like something Isak wants to do either. So instead he whips up the cream (which is just as much fun as beating the egg whites earlier; and why does one whip cream but beat eggs when it's the same fucking thing?), and then sits down at the kitchen table with his laptop, scrolling through social media and pretending he's not anxiously casting glances at the oven every now and then. It's starting to smell like cake, so that's probably a good sign, but Isak also can't help worrying that any moment now he's going to miss the moment and the cake'll burn. Or spontaneously catch on fire.

(He won't miss the moment. He's set a timer. He's got a toothpick ready to test the cake.)

Jonas drop-calls him when they're downstairs, so Isak goes to buzz them in, and leans in the open doorway, listening to their indiscriminate chatter as they climb up the stairs. A smile's already pulling at his lips. He does really love his boys.

“Man, it smells delicious in here. Is Noora baking?” Magnus asks as soon as his shoes are off.

“Er, no, she's at Eva's,” Isak says. “Also, that's a little bit sexist.”

“Wait, are you baking?” Jonas asks, eyes bright and a little bit too knowing on Isak.

Isak rolls his eyes.

“Whatever,” he says, and leaves them standing there in favour of checking the timer on his phone in the kitchen. Magnus whoops behind him.

“Why the fuck are you baking, bro?” he asks, falling down on the chair Isak was sitting in earlier and immediately selecting a different song than the one that was playing.

Isak sighs exasperatedly at him, and tries to fight the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Cause it's Even's birthday next week, and I wanted to make sure I know how to make a cake,” he says.

“That is some domesticated shit,” Magnus says.

“Guess you're not getting any, then,” Isak says easily, laughing when Magnus gapes at him, clearly scrambling for a way to turn it back around.

“Nothing new for Magnus,” Mahdi drawls, high-fiving Isak on the way past and falling into the chair opposite Magnus.

“Whatever, guys” Magnus grumbles. “I was just curious. It's not like Isak usually goes all housewife on us.”

“Again with the sexism,” Jonas says with a grin, making Magnus throw up his hands before he crosses his arms in front of his chest and pouts.

“But girls _do_ bake more,” Magnus mumbles.

“Yeah, cause society expects them to know how _and_ like it. And it expects the opposite of boys,” Jonas explains, pulling  out a chair to sit down next to Magnus. “Also using female-designated roles as low-key insults is, like, not okay. Cause you're implying women are somehow worth less than men.”

“When the fuck did I do that?” Magnus asks, looking flustered and distressed now. Isak doesn't really envy him. It's not fun being on the receiving end of Jonas' political lectures, even if, he supposes, they're probably necessary.

“So you meant 'housewife' as a compliment?” Jonas asks, sarcastically.

“Well, but, like, that's just something you say!” Magnus blusters.

Jonas shrugs.

“Yeah, that's the problem. _You run like a girl,_ or _you're such a housewife,_ or _that song is so girly_ are all things you 'just say', but they're all symptomatic of the problem. So when Isak's out here smashing toxic masculinity standards, you pat him on the back and be glad you get to have some cake,” he says with a bright grin at Isak.

“I'm just baking my boyfriend a birthday cake,” Isak protests. “I'm not smashing any masculinity standards or whatever.”

“The personal is political, Isak,” Jonas says, wisely. “Especially when you're part of a marginalised group.”

Isak squirms uncomfortably where he's leaning against the kitchen counter, trying not to protest that he's  _not_ part of any 'marginalsed group'. This whole gay thing gets easier every day but he's still not at a point where he's about to wave pride flags around and prance about in makeup. Not that-- ugh. Whatever. Isak's still learning, is the point, and Eskild's lecture about Pride is still ringing in his ears.

“Yeah, whatever,” he says. “And might I remind you who just a few months ago was dissing every song I liked because it was, and I quote, 'so gay'.”

Jonas, to his credit, looks contrite.

“The fuck, man?” Mahdi laughs.

“Ha!” Magnus yells, pointing a gleeful finger at Jonas.

Jonas looks up at Isak, and pulls a face.

“I'm really sorry,” he says. “That was fucked up.”

Isak shrugs and fights a blush. He didn't mean to bring it up, and he's not fond of being the centre of attention like this, so he waves it away.

“It's all good,” he says.

Thankfully, that's when the timer on his phone goes off, diverting everyone's attention immediately. Isak grabs the toothpick and a folded dish towel, and bends down to open the oven.

“Is it done?” Magnus asks.

“Hold on,” Isak says, and sticks the toothpick in the middle of the cake. It comes out clean.

Isak grins.

“Done,” he announces, and receives three cheers in return.

He can't help but grin to himself as he turns the oven off and takes the cake out to cool off.

“So when can we eat it?” Magnus asks.

“It's still gotta cool. And then I need to put on the cream and stuff,” Isak says with a shrug.

Magnus waggles his eyebrows.

“I'm sure Even appreciates a bit of cream.”

Jonas lets out a scandalised laugh, and Mahdi and Magnus high-five over the table while Isak freezes in his tracks,  face running hot.

“No cake for you,” Isak finally snaps and sits down with them.

“Well, since Isak's getting it on the regular and I'm not, can we talk about me instead?” Magnus says then.

“Yes, let's,” Isak agrees immediately, prompting more laughter.

“Things with Vilde definitely not happening, bro?” Mahdi asks, leaning back in his chair.

“No, I don't think so,” Magnus says with a sigh. “I don't know. She was so into me over Christmas but since we got back to school she just shuts me out.”

“You probably just need to cut your losses there, dude,” Jonas says.

“Shouldn't I, like, keep trying? Get her some flowers? Some romantic shit? Profess my love in the schoolyard? You know, like a gesture or something. Maybe she's just shy,” Magnus says.

“Definitely don't do that,” Jonas says.

“Yeah, bro, if she's shy and you do any public shit like that she's just gonna get embarrassed,” Mahdi says.

“It's Vilde,” Jonas says. “She's not shy. When she wanted William to fuck her last year, she went to a party and fucked him. And when you said you wanted to fuck her she said okay, right? Back in December?”

“Yeah, but we never did,” Magnus whines.

“Dude, she probably changed her mind,” Jonas points out.

“But why?” Magnus asks, looking a little more genuinely lost and a little less oblivious Magnus about it.

Jonas shrugs.

“Sorry, bro,” Mahdi offers.

“It probably isn't anything you did,” Isak says. “It just happens sometimes.”

“It's never happened to you,” Magnus sulks.

“What, you mean the one time I actually tried for a person I liked?” Isak says with a lifted eyebrow and a grin. “Yeah, I got lucky that he's a dork who already had a crush on me.”

“Yeah, but I meant – he had a girlfriend, and all that shit happened at first, but you went after him anyway. And it paid off!” Magnus insists.

“Nah, not really,” Isak says. “I backed off when I found out about Sonja, but he came onto me after that, so.”

“So you're saying I should wait for her to make a move?”

“I'm saying if she wants to make a move she knows you'll be receptive,” Isak said, carefully.

Magnus heaves a deep sigh.

“That's not particularly encouraging,” he says.

Isak shrugs.

“Sorry,” he says, “But there's only so much you can do. If she doesn't like you back then that sucks for you, bro, but, like, you can't _make_ her like you.”

“I know that,” Magnus grumbles, running an agitated hand through his hair, before turning back to Isak. “If she really doesn't like me back, will you bake me a consolation cake?”

Isak rolls his eyes, but can't help a smile.

“I'll bake you a muffin,” he says.

“Yeah, alright,” Magnus agrees, already grinning again. “Gotta watch what I put in this bod anyway.”

“Sure, man,” Mahdi says, while Isak catches Jonas' eye and they both look away as quickly as possible. Sometimes Magnus makes it _so_ easy.

“Meanwhile, is there a party to take your mind off this whole Vilde thing happening tonight?” Jonas asks.

Isak shrugs. He's never been the one to get invites to parties, unless he was trying to flirt his way into a heterosexual cover. Since Even he's been content to tag along to the occasional party, or spend his weekends in. So long as Even's there, Isak can't pretend he much cares about what it is they're doing.

“Oi, Isak. You coming tonight or you mooning over your boyfriend some more?” Jonas asks, grinning widely when Isak snaps out of his thoughts.

“Sure, I'll come,” Isak says, ignoring the other half of the sentence. “Where are we going?”

“Some Handels party. Mahdi got an invite.”

“Nice,” Isak says, and gets up again to check on the cake. It's still warm. Not super hot anymore but… definitely warm. Isak's pretty sure it's too warm to stuff with cream.

“How long do you guys think it takes till this'll be cooled off?” he asks.

“How the fuck should we know?” Mahdi asks, laughing a little.

“I don't know. Take a guess,” Isak says.

“Couple hours?” Jonas suggests.

Magnus groans. “That long? Fuck, I was looking forward to it.”

“Shall I put it, like, by the window or something? Open it a little?” Isak suggests.

“Sure, you can try,” Jonas says.

Isak considers the cake and then decides fuck it. This is why he's testing it after all. To see how it'll go. The cake can't cool too quickly, surely.

“Yeah, alright,” Isak says, more to himself, and then drags his chair over from the table to set the cake down by the window, cracking it open a little.

“Bro, it's gonna get cold,” Mahdi complains.

“So put on some clothes,” Isak says, and hops up onto the kitchen counter now that his seat is taken.

“You're taking this really seriously,” Magnus observes.

Isak shrugs and pretends not to be a little embarrassed.

“Well, it's for Even,” he says, a little more quietly.

“You're whippped, bro,” Mahdi assesses.

Isak feels his face flush and his toes curl up, but he can't help but grin, and shrugs.

“I guess, yeah,” he says, which is as much of an admission of his feelings for Even as he's ever given them.

They know, of course. They're not idiots. They saw Isak fall apart last fall, and they've seen how much better he's been since. They tease him about mooning over his boyfriend all the time, which, he supposes, is their right as his best friends. And honestly? He's a little glad for it every time it happens. It's exactly the kind of thing they'd do if he were dating a girl. Once someone makes fun of you with a fond grin, you know they care for you.

Magnus sighs.

“Dude's a legend, I don't blame you,” he says.

Isak snorts. “It's a good thing you're probably the straightest person I've ever met, otherwise I'd think you have a crush on my boyfriend.”

“I probably would, if I weren't,” Magnus says, considering.

Mahdi grins. “At least you know your type.”

“What can I say? I've got it bad for hot blondes,” Magnus grins back, prompting them all into laughter.

By the time the cake's cold enough Isak dares try to assemble it, Mahdi's complained about the cold two more times, and even Magnus has started crossing his arms in front of his chest to stave of the chill in the air. Isak's closed the window a while ago, but it's taking the room a bit to heat back up. He'll have to keep that in mind. Maybe he should just bake the cake in the morning, and give it the whole day to cool off. Surely that'll be enough time.

In a moment of inspiration, he grabs his raspberry jam from the fridge and spreads a general helping of it on the bottom half of the cake to make up for the lack of fruit, before he covers it with half a cup of ready-made vanilla pudding.

“You're making this look really easy,” Magnus comments from where the boys are all crowded around to watch.

Isak looks over at him out of the corner of his eye and raises an eyebrow.

“Well, it's not exactly rocket science, is it,” he says.

“Still. I wouldn't know how to do this,” Magnus says.

“I googled it,” Isak explains, with a grin pulling at his lips. Honestly, it is a lot easier than he feared.

“So now can we have some?” Magnus asks when Isak straightens up to pour the sprinkles on the cake, basically covering it in them. Whatever. It looks fun.

“No, it needs to go in the fridge for a bit to firm up,” Isak says, grabbing the plate of cake and shooing the boys out of the way.

At the triple groan he receives he grins.

“Just a half hour, come on.”

Forty-five minutes later the cake is all but gone, the smaller size of it standing no chance in the face of four hungry teenage boys.

“That was really good,” Mahdi says.

“Definitely a worthy first attempt. You should do this more often,” Jonas grins.

Isak rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, bro. If Even doesn't blow you for this, I will,” Magnus says.

Isak freezes in his tracks, face numb and brain valiantly trying _not_ to process that information in any way. It's about as successful as not thinking of pink elephants.

“Please, for the love of all you hold dear, Magnus, never say anything like that again,” Isak says.

Mahdi and Jonas burst into laughter, and Isak turns away to take care of the dishes to try and push the thought out of his head with any other kind of information.

“What, it can't be that hard,” Magnus grumbles, and Isak wonders if a promise of another cake would make him stop.

“It wouldn't be; you're not exactly Isak's first pick, remember?” Mahdi drawls with a lazy smirk, and Isak can't help the desperate chuckle even as he bangs his head against the overhead cabinet in the hopes that it'll somehow shake this entire conversation out of his memory forever. Why does he have friends again?

“Seriously, if it takes you getting laid for this kind of conversation to never happen again, I will be the best damn wingman you have ever had,” Isak says, sitting back down with the boys after he's cleared their plates and forks away. Eskild will be so proud. You can hardly tell anyone was in the kitchen at all in between the time he left and whatever time he'll be coming back. Nevermind that the only reason Isak's making doubly sure of that is because he's trying to keep the baking thing from Eskild for as long as he possibly can. He's gone this far, so maybe he can make it all the way till next Saturday.

Magnus beams at him.

“Really?” he asks.

“Well, what else am I going to do at a party without my boyfriend when all of you will be trying to hook up? The sooner you leave with a girl the sooner I can go home and call him,” Isak grins.

Jonas rolls his eyes at him.

“You know how you used to be fun?” he asks sarcastically.

“Nah, can't remember that,” Isak grins, prompting laughter. “But, seriously, guys, if you're all looking to hook up, that's fine by me, just don't expect me to stay very long.”

“Fair enough,” Mahdi says with a shrug. “Now what's you masterplan to get Magnus laid?”

Isak shrugs. “Do I need one? I'll hardly do worse than Magnus does on his own.”

Mahdi laughs and points a finger at him. “True, bro.”

“Ouch,” Jonas comments with a grin, and Magnus rolls his eyes with a groan but doesn't protest.

Isak wrinkles his nose and throws an arm around Magnus' shoulders.

“You're fine,” he says, squeezing his shoulder a little. He's buoyed by his baking success and the laughter of his three best friends. It always makes him a bit more willing to show affection and, admittedly, Magnus usually bears the brunt of his teasing, so it's probably fair to go the other direction with him every now and then.

“Nah, you're right,” Magnus grins, leaning back into the chair, Isak's arm slipping back off his shoulders. “So when are we leaving?”

“Right now?” Mahdi suggests. “Kebabs and then off to Anders'?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jonas agrees, and the next ten minutes are spent finding their way into jackets and shoes, hunting for Mahdi's phone and Jonas' keys, and then a heart-stopping moment after the door to the apartment falls shut behind them when Isak thinks _he's_ forgotten his keys inside. He hasn't, and so they all make their way towards the tram and their favourite kebab place.

Once they've all stuffed their bellies with what may or may not be the most nutritious meal Isak has had that week (oops), Isak holds the door open for all of them and pretends to pull some fluff off Magnus' jacket to stall them for a bit. Mahdi and Jonas walk a few paces ahead of them, and Isak falls into step beside Magnus, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“So,” he says.

“Uh, yeah?” Magnus asks, turning to him with a confused expression.

“Do you actually want to hook up tonight?” Isak asks, trying to keep his face as neutral and unassuming as possible.

“Um,” Magnus says, looking a little caught out.

Isak gives him a small smile.

“Cause it's fine if you don't, yeah?” he says. “If you're holding out for Vilde, or even if things with her really won't happen, you really like her, yeah? It's fine if you want to sulk about it a bit.”

“You'd know,” Magnus teases, bumping their shoulders together.

Isak thinks back to the disastrous night he saw Even with Sonja at Emma's party and snorts a half-amused laugh.

“Yeah, I guess I would,” he says.

“But, like, that's not what I feel for Vilde, I don't think. What you and Even have,” Magnus says.

Isak looks over at him and raises an eyebrow.

“You know, that larger-than-life shit,” Magnus clarifies.

“Larger than life?” Isak asks.

“Yeah. You both do that thing where you just. I don't know. Even when you're not doing anything, not even touching, it's always super obvious that you're a couple,” Magnus says.

“Is it?” Isak asks.

“Yeah,” Magnus laughs. “Have you not noticed that no one hits on you anymore?”

“Er, no,” Isak says. “Did people use to hit on me a lot?”

“Dude. What the fuck,” Magnus says, mouth open a little. “You hooked up with a chick practically every time we went out, and like, it looked like you never even had to try? I mean, I guess that wasn't the dream for you--”

“Hardly,” Isak snorts on a laugh that Magnus answers with a little grin.

“-- but like, I used to be so jealous. You have mad game, bro,” he says. “You really haven't noticed?”

“I've just noticed that going to parties is fun now,” Isak says with an apologetic shrug. “Like, it was always fun hanging with you lot, but the whole girls part was just… because I was scared, you know? Like, actually terrified. So mostly I notice that I'm not terrified anymore.”

Magnus doesn't say anything for a while, and when he does break the silence again, it's with a slightly hanging head and a sincere, “I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Isak asks.

“I don't know. Whatever I – we – did that made you think you had to pretend,” Magnus says, kicking at the pavement a bit.

Isak feels at a loss for words, and then decides to take an actual moment to find some. This is different than Jonas' apology earlier because Jonas and he have known each other for so long that the apology was always a given. Isak has always known, rationally, that Jonas would be cool about it. And Jonas would have never not been. All either of them did that contributed to this situation was water under the bridge as soon as it happened.

Magnus and he don't have that kind of history. They only really started hanging out about a year ago. Less, even.

“It's not really anything specific you did or didn't do,” Isak says. “It's more the general assumption that everyone's straight and then how that plays into every interaction.”

“Cause it makes you feel like people just expect you to be straight?”

“It makes you feel like you're _supposed_ to be,” Isak says. “In my head of course I knew there's nothing wrong with being gay, but it's really hard to feel like that's true when the songs you like are shit because they're gay, and that guy's weak because he's gay, and that shirt looks shit on you because it's gay and all that crap, you know? I know none of you actually meant gay people are the worst, but, fucking hell, then why do we use 'gay' as a catch-all for everything shit? And all the bullshit stereotypes about gay guys just made me feel like if I told anyone I liked boys they'd assume a hundred other things about me, and, like, dismiss who I am as a person, you know?”

Isak takes a deep breath, giving Magnus a slightly wobbly smile. He didn't actually mean to let that all come out and dump it on Magnus, but here they are. Magnus is staring at him with slightly wide, overwhelmed eyes, but Isak can tell he's paying attention, and honestly? That's probably one of the best feelings Isak knows.

“I just wanted to be _Isak._ Not 'that gay guy'. So, like, gay was fine in theory, but only so long as it's someone else.”

Magnus nods, slowly, his brow wrinkling.

“You think that's that toxic masculinity thing Jonas was on about earlier?” he asks.

Isak can't help a little laugh.

“A bit, yeah,” he says, still grinning.

“Well, still,” Magnus says. “Sorry.”

“That's okay,” Isak says, gently. “You did kick my ass in gear when Even had his episode last December, so I figure we're even.”

Magnus grins. “Are you saying I made Evak happen?”

“You definitely helped,” Isak allows with another laugh. “But, seriously, if you don't want to hook up tonight, I'll totally cover for you with Jonas and Mahdi if you want me to.”

“Wait, the whole point of this conversation wasn't that we're not supposed to pretend to be things we're not in front of our friends?” Magnus teases.

Isak grins. “I'm just saying, sometimes a guy needs to lick his wounds a little, and sometimes other guys don't get it.”

Magnus grins back. “Nah, if they tease me about it I'll just tell them that boys are allowed to cry too, and they need to cut out that toxic masculinity crap.”

“Now you're getting it,” Isak says, thumping Magnus on the back jovially.

“What secret things are you talking about back there?” Jonas calls back to them, having turned around to wait for them.

“How to best steal whatever girl you're going to flirt with for Magnus,” Isak calls in response, grinning when Jonas shoves at his shoulder as soon as they catch up with him and Mahdi.

“In your dreams,” he says. “You've got nothing on these eyebrows.”

He waggles them for demonstration, and Isak can't help his laugh.

“I don't know, chicks really seem to dig the gay thing. All I need to do is listen to them complain about boys for a few minutes and then hand them over to Magnus,” he says.

“Dude,” Magnus says, eyes wide as though he's only just realised this.

“Not going to happen,” Isak says firmly, pointing a finger at Magnus. “I did not come out only to flirt with girls on someone else's behalf.”

“Fine, just stand next to me and be pretty then,” Magnus sighs.

Isak decides not to question the compliment or the word choice, and grins. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Two hours later, when he excuses himself from a conversation with Magnus and a pretty Handels second year called Lisa about the finer points of Batman versus Superman to take a call from his boyfriend, Lisa doesn't seem at all disappointed, and Isak grins to himself.

“Hey, babe, I think I'm a fantastic wingman,” he says, stepping outside into the cold and quiet.

Even laughs down the line.

“Yeah? What did you do? Listen to girls whine about boys and then pass them over to your friends?” he asks.

Isak snorts a laugh.

“I would never,” he says. “Nah, I just gave Magnus the opportunity to have an actual conversation about something he likes, and he's doing everything else by himself.”

“That is fantastic wingmanning,” Even agrees. “So, you're having fun?”

“Yeah, it's alright. We lost Mahdi somewhere, and Jonas was dancing with a girl just a moment ago, so I'm probably going to head out,” Isak says, wrapping his arm around himself. He should've grabbed his jacket. It really is fucking freezing outside.

“Hm, it's early yet. Want to come over?” Even asks. There's a hint of teasing in his voice, but it's still a jovial enough question that Isak knows whether they end up in Even's bed watching a movie or in Even's _bed_ is still up in the air. Either way, it's an easy decision.

He grins and turns around to go grab his jacket.

“Yeah,” he says. “I'm not far so I'll see you in about twenty?”

“Even better,” Even says. “I'll slip into something more comfortable, shall I?”

He's definitely teasing now, and Isak laughs as he digs through the mountain of jackets to find his own. Maybe he should get a bright red one, it'd be easier to find in this pile of forest green.

“Yeah? That little lace number I got you for Christmas?” Isak teases right back, earning himself another bout of bright laughter. He gave Even Stanislaw Lem's _The Star Diaries_ for Christmas.

“You want me to do myself up pretty for you, baby? Get my freakum dress on?”

Isak snorts another laugh and finally pulls his jacket from the pile.

“You're always pretty,” he says. It comes out a little more earnest than he meant to say it, but it's not like he doesn't actually mean it. Even has that kind of face. That kind of kind face that just makes you feel good looking at it.

“Aw,” Even coos. “You're pretty too.”

“Thanks, I was starting to worry you were dating me for my personality,” Isak drawls.

“Nah, you're good,” Even says. “It's only skin deep on my side.”

“Phew,” Isak says, wedging his phone between his shoulder and ear to slip into the jacket. “That would've been a bummer, as I really don't care about anything but your face.”

“No? Not even my ass? Or my dick?”

“Maybe those too,” Isak allows, glad Even can't see him blush, even if he probably knows it's happening. They do tend to spend every waking moment together, so getting to know each other has happened on fast forward.

“I'll wrap them for you,” Even says, sounding half-distracted, like he's actually thinking about doing just that.

“Even,” Isak says seriously, pausing in zipping up his jacket. “Do not put your dick in a box.”

A girl coming out of the bathroom at just the right moment catches his eye and after a moment of mutual staring, winks at him and mouths 'get it'. Isak blushes again.

Even laughs.

“Alright, fine, just the lace then,” he says.

“That's more than enough,” Isak says, a little too soft again.

“Just go say goodbye and come over before I actually start missing you just from a phone call,” Even complains, making Isak grin to himself. They're ridiculous. He loves every second of it.

“Yeah, alright. See you in a bit,” he says.

“See you soon, baby,” Even replies.

Isak hangs up and looks around the room. Jonas has the girl backed against a wall, their heads bent close, so he's not about to interrupt those two. Mahdi is still nowhere to be found, and Magnus and Lisa are still only talking, but she's got her leg up on the couch now, bodily turned towards him, so Isak pulls his phone back out of his pocket and shoots him a text instead.

 

**Magnus Fossbakken**

hook-up or not, ask for her number

 

Then he sends another four, just to be a dick.

 

**cat-fucker and friends**

I'm off, guys.

Have fun.

Be safe.

Use protection.

 

There's no immediate reply, so Isak puts his phone away with a grin, digging his beanie and gloves out of his jacket pockets and setting out into the cold. He doesn't get further than three minutes away before his phone beeps with a message.

 

**Magnus Fossbakken**

I'm not an idiot

Say hi to Even for me

 

Isak doesn't bother replying, but keeps his phone in hand for a moment, considering, and then swipes over into his call list with a sigh. It's not like Even doesn't know he's ridiculous.

“Miss me?” Even quips as he picks up.

“Are you telling me you've got something better to do than stay on the phone with me while I brave the cold to be with you?”

“Of course not. Your sacrifice is very much appreciated,” Even says. “I'll put you on speaker though, hang on.”

Isak hangs on for a moment, and waits for Even's slightly more remote sounding “okay, I'm back”.

“What are you doing?”

“Making cheese toasties,” Even says with an audible grin, and Isak feels his lips twitch in an answering one.

“I wasn't lying about the cardamom, you know?” he says, setting them off on yet another ridiculous debate about the appropriate preparation method of cheese toasties. It carries Isak all the way to Even's, and right into his kitchen, where he hangs up his phone, and wraps his arms around Even's neck, while Even's wind around his waist in a practised move.

“Are you expecting anyone else? I locked the door,” he says.

“No, that's fine, thank you,” Even replies. “It's just us tonight.”

“Oh, is it? And you in your freakum dress?” Isak teases, slipping his fingers down the back of Even's hoodie to tease at the soft skin at the top of his spine. “Mr. Bech Næsheim, you're trying to seduce me.”

Even laughs, arms pulling tighter around Isak's middle.

“I'm not that old,” he complains.

“What?” Isak asks, laughing a little at the non-sequitur.

“ _The Graduate?_ ” Even says, eyebrows rising.

Isak shakes his head.

“Well, never mind. It doesn't apply anyway. But it is a classic and you should be ashamed of yourself,” Even concludes.

“Says the person who doesn't know the difference between DNA and RNA,” Isak teases.

At first he'd worried that it would pull them apart, how vastly different their preferred areas of interest are. Even and his movies are a far cry from Isak and his science textbooks, but in the end, between talking to Even about parallel universes, and listening to him talk about myths and epics, he realised they both want the same thing – to understand how the world works. It's just that Isak turns to science and looks at every single detail, and Even turns to stories and looks at everything at once. And Isak loves listening to Even explain his thoughts and feelings about movies, loves how much he loves it, and he knows Even feels the same way about Isak and his textbooks and four hundred flashcards. And sometimes they meet in the middle, Even's movies and Isak's science, and Isak feels his heart expand until it feels like it encompasses the whole room, swallowing Even and his bright smile right up.

“I can tell you're having sappy thoughts,” Even says, voice a little quieter and face a little closer. Isak suddenly realises they haven't kissed hello yet, and feels the imminent rectification of that oversight sparkle in his veins. He knows what Even looks like when he wants to kiss him.

“Extremely sappy,” Isak confirms with a small smile.

Even hums pleasantly, but doesn't ask. Isak doesn't offer anything, except his lips with a tilt of his head, letting his lashes fall almost all the way shut over his eyes. He sees the quick widening of Even's smile as he brushes their noses together, and feels his own lips answer it with one of his own.

“Love you,” he says on a quiet exhale.

Even's smile goes even wider and then he presses it to Isak's, keeps pressing until their smiles melt and their lips can tangle for a moment sweet enough to curl Isak's toes in his socks.

“Love you too,” Even says when he pulls back again, moving back out of Isak's space.

“So, movie or…?” Isak asks, letting the rest of the sentence hang in the air between them.

Even bends down to check on the cheese toast in the oven, and then shrugs as he looks over at Isak again.

“Movie?” he suggests, turning off the oven.

Isak nods his acquiescence. “Something we've seen before?”

“Yeah, alright. Tired?” Even asks, and then steps away to take the toast out of the oven.

“A little,” Isak says, turning towards the overhead cabinets to grab them two plates. “You want ketchup or something?”

“No, thanks,” Even says, putting their toasts on the plates quickly and then sucking his finger into his mouth against the heat.

Isak rolls his eyes at him. He does keep telling Even to just use a goddamn spatula, but if Even's going to continue to insist he can't be bothered, he's going to have to deal with the burn.

“You're heartless,” Even mumbles through a pout and his finger.

“Extremely,” Isak agrees and grabs their plates, turning out of the kitchen for Even's room.

He sets their toasts down on the little table by the couch underneath Even's bunk bed and goes to look through Even's DVD collection.

“ _The Men Who Stare At Goats_?” he suggests when he hears Even come in.

“You just want to stare at Ewan McGregor and George Clooney,” Even says, but it's not a no, so Isak takes it from the shelf.

“It's funny,” he says.

Generally, Even likes heavier movies; dramas, love stories, historical stuff. Generally, Isak likes the lighter things; superhero movies, action thrillers, the occasional sci fi. Comedy is where they agree the easiest. They both like black humour, satire, things that ride that line of “am I supposed to laugh at this?” while you can't help but chuckle to yourself or that are just a little weird.

“Is it funnier than Ewan McGregor is hot though?” Even says, sitting down with his laptop and starting it up.

“Is anything funnier than Ewan McGregor is hot?” Isak asks with a grin and sits down next to Even, reaching for one of the beers Even brought in.

“Good point,” Even says. “We should watch _Down With Love_ at some point. That one's funny too, and cute.”

“And Ewan McGregor is in it?”

“In sixties suits and everything,” Even says, looking up at Isak and waggling his eyebrows.

“So why are we watching this?” Isak asks, handing over the DVD when Even holds out his hand for it.

“Because you don't want to watch a movie, you want to watch the first twenty minutes and then make out until we're sleepy enough to crawl into bed,” Even says, pushing the DVD in before grinning over at Isak again.

Isak can't help but grin back.

“You've got nothing on Ewan McGregor in a good suit though,” he teases.

Even gasps fake affront, and starts the movie when the menu pops up.

“See if you get any kisses out of me now,” he grumbles, scooting as far away from Isak as the couch allows when the movie starts playing.

Isak hits the light switch conveniently located by the sofa, and grins to himself as he picks up his toast.

Twenty-four minutes later they've gravitated back towards the middle of the sofa and each other. Even's hand is carding slowly through Isak's hair, in that distracted way that means he's not yet teasing, but only moments away from turning his attention from the movie to Isak. Isak lets out a deliberate happy sigh and slumps further into the couch, head falling back over Even's arm so his neck is on display and his face turned towards Even. It only takes a minute for Even's caress to move from Isak's scalp to his face, the tips of his fingers dancing over his ear, the high of his cheekbone, his nose. Isak turns his head and nudges the line of Even's jaw with his nose, brushing whisper-soft kisses against his skin. Even's fingers go tight in Isak's hair, like maybe he's actually trying to resist Isak, and Isak can't help his grin.

He turns more fully in Even's half-embrace, sliding one hand up over Even's chest, curving his hand to the edge of Even's jaw and the base of his skull, scratching dull nails against the skin behind his ear. He leans up to kiss Even's cheek, an imitation of shyness, and sweeps his thumb over the other cheek. Even's hand has stilled in his hair, and Isak lets his nose lead the way across Even's face, lining their lips up and using his hand on Even's face to guide him to meet him.

“Kiss me,” he says, quietly, and waits.

Even likes being seduced, but he also likes being the one to pull Isak in, to be the one to press their bodies close and shower Isak in kisses, and touches, and pleasure. He likes the way Isak yields to it, likes knowing that Isak does it because _he_ likes it. That if Even didn't initiate, Isak would.

He nudges his face forward and captures Isak's lips in a sweet kiss.

Isak hums pleasantly into the touch, and lets his other hand move down to the side of Even's neck, slips it past the neckline of his hoodie and t-shirtto get to his skin. Even wraps his second arm around Isak as well and turns his body so they're front to front. Isak pulls a little, and Even goes with it, leans over Isak until he's lying flat on the couch with Even hovering over him, still kissing languidly.

The movie plays on, flickering light over Even's face whenever Isak's eyes slip back open, but Isak ignores it. They have seen this particular one several times before, and he's sure they're going to watch it again. And anyway, Even was absolutely right. Isak had no intention of finishing the movie in the first place. Kissing Even until their lips are sore and their limbs heavy with sleepiness is much better. He'll have to leave tomorrow morning when Even goes to see his aunt, but he'll sleep curled around him tonight.

 

Monday finds Isak the first of their group to have made his way to the cafeteria, and holding down a table for them.

Magnus is the first to join him.

“That fucking French class is going to kill me,” he announces.

“Noora's in that one, right? I bet she could help you; she's good,” Isak says, putting his phone away.

Magnus pulls a face.

“She's a bit scary,” he confesses.

Isak can't help the laugh. “Noora? Tiny Noora? She's such a mum.”

“To you maybe,” Magnus concedes. “I think she hates me.”

“Nah, she doesn't hate you, she's just not fond of boys in general,” Isak says with a shrug.

“Oh, great,” Magnus says with a roll of his eyes. “It's not like I can help it!”

“Sure you can,” Isak says. “Remember that toxic masculinity thing from Saturday? Just don't do… that.”

Magnus heaves a sigh and leans back in his chair.

“Talking to Lisa was a lot easier,” he says, and for the first time Isak finds himself genuinely interested in Magnus' stories about a girl at a party.

“Did you get her number?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did. We're going to see the new Spiderman and Deadpool when they're out,” Magnus says with a proud grin.

“Have those even been announced yet?” Isak asks with a frown.

“No, but I figure it'll be sometimes this summer,” Magnus says and shrugs before grabbing his sandwich to take a large bite.

“Making plans half a year in advance. Not bad,” Isak says, grinning a little suggestively.

Magnus waves him off. “It's not like that. We're friends.”

Isak nods like he doesn't believe him. To be fair, he doesn't. That girl is perfect for Magnus, and he's betting it's going to take him less long than it will for _Deadpool 2_ to come out before he realises it. Before he can say anything to that effect, he catches sight of Vilde making her way across the cafeteria to them, beaming widely.

“Hi, Vilde,” he says before she can say anything, alerting Magnus to her presence behind him.

“Hi, Isak,” Vilde chirps back, and puts a hand on the backrest of the chair Magnus is sitting in.

“Hi, Magnus,” she smiles down at him.

“Hi,” Magnus greets her back, and his smile is still just a little besotted. Isak moves the realisation back a bit, but still. Definitely before the summer.

“I just wanted to say I'm so glad you found someone to hook up with last Saturday! I was worried you were sad about us not working out, but you moved on too, so that's great!” she says.

Isak bites his cheek and tries to school his face into the neutral expression Magnus doesn't quite manage.

“You're a sweet guy, I hope it's going to go well,” she says, and then throws another smile at Isak before turning around with a whirl of her ponytail and flouncing off, back to where Isak can now see Eva and Sana sitting at a table. He nods at Eva in greeting when their eyes catch, and she lifts a hand to wave back with a huge grin.

“What the fuck,” Magnus mumbles, and Isak turns back to him before he can see Vilde sit down with them.

Magnus looks at him, wide eyes a little wounded, and Isak grimaces sympathetically.

“Sorry, bro,” he offers.

“You think she meant that?” Magnus asks.

Isak sighs and nods.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure she did,” he says gently.

“I didn't even hook up with her, we literally just talked and walked to the bus stop together when she wanted to leave,” Magnus says. “How does she even know?”

“Vilde knows everything that's going on with everyone,” Isak says. He's still not sure how or why she heard about Even's episode at Bakka. It's just something to accept about Vilde, he figures. She sits in the middle of a spider's web of grapevine and hears everything.

“True,” Magnus says, and slumps back into his chair. “Fuck.”

“You want that muffin tomorrow?” Isak asks, nudging his foot under the table and smiling in an attempt to cheer him up.

“I need that muffin now,” Magnus says, but he's grinning a bit.

Isak glances over at the display case of the cafeteria, and grabs his wallet from his backpack.

“You know what? You're right,” he says, and gets up.

“What?” Magnus asks, and when he sees where Isak's looking stares up at him with wide eyes. “You don't have to...”

“Yeah, I know. You really do need a muffin right now, though,” Isak says and pats Magnus on the shoulder on his way past.

By the time he makes it to the front of the line, they're out of muffins, so he buys a Mars bar and chucks it on the table in front of Magnus when he gets back. Mahdi, Jonas, and Even have joined him by now, and all look up with varying levels of 'what the fuck?' in their expression.

“What, I don't get any candy?” Even asks, arm already around the chair Isak slides into.

“I give you enough sugar,” Isak grins and leans in for a quick kiss hello, while Jonas squawks a laugh in the background. Even's grin is far too filthy for a Monday at school when they pull apart again. Isak winks at him. They already have plans to meet up after school, might as well clarify what they're going to do.

“So, what's the Mars bar for?” Mahdi asks.

“Vilde just fucking obliterated him,” Isak says, while Magnus makes an outraged noise.

“She did not! She was very nice about it,” Magnus says.

“Sorry, she obliterated him _gently_ ,” Isak corrects, and lets Magnus tell the story in a huffy rush to prove that Isak's wrong. Works as a distraction every time.

“You're such a softie,” Even mumbles in Isak's ear and presses a kiss to the side of his head.

Isak pinches his leg underneath the table and tunes back into the conversation, interjecting occasionally, and making sure to point out his own magnificent wingmanning skills from last Saturday, if only to see Magnus flustered as he denies that any sort of wingmanning happened or was necessary. They were all just having a pleasant conversation. By the end of the lunch period, he's got Mahdi and Jonas firmly on his side, and he's pretty sure Even's only agreeing with Magnus to placate him.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, and by the time he meets up with Even by their bench in the schoolyard, all thoughts of Magnus' love life are gone from his mind. Even and he are too… busy for him to even spare a thought to Magnus' muffin, but he knows Even doesn't have the same lunch as them on Wednesday, so he braves the kitchen on Tuesday evening, baking a small batch of muffins. Eskild can't be avoided this time, and he coos over him for a solid twenty minutes when Isak explains why he's baking in the first place – the entire time it takes Isak to mix up the batter and pour it into the little paper cups.

“Is one of those for your guru, who loves you?” Eskild asks when Isak pushes them into the oven, batting his eyelashes.

Isak fakes a deep sigh, but can't help his grin.

“Yeah, sure. You can have one,” he says, slightly insulted by the surprise in Eskild's face. He's not that much of a grouch.

“So, are you confident in your baking for Saturday then?” Eskild asks and sits down at the kitchen table with Isak when he sets his timer on his phone.

“Uh, yeah, it'll be alright,” Isak says. “You can judge for yourself when the muffins are done.”

Eskild does judge, as does Noora, and even Linn, who was lured out of her room by the smell of freshly baked cake. The consensus is the muffins are good, and Isak can't help but feel a little smug. It's only the second time he's ever baked anything, but it really isn't all that hard, apparently. He puts one of the remaining muffins in a tupperware box, and tells the rest of them they can fight it out for the last one before retreating to his room for the night.

 

“Bro,” Magnus says Wednesday, when Isak slides the tupperware box over the table to him at lunch. His eyes are wide and his face has gone a bit slack with surprise.

“What's that?” Mahdi asks, curious, as Magnus peels back the lid, and then laughs when Magnus takes out the muffin.

“Seriously, man? You actually made him a muffin?” he asks.

Isak shrugs and grins. “I said I would, didn't I?”

“Thanks, Isak,” Magnus says with a wide, almost sweet, smile. It's not an expression Isak's used to on his face, and he's not sure entirely how to react to it.

“Sure,” he says. “I'm sorry about Vilde.”

“Yeah,” Magnus mumbles, and carefully peels back the paper on one side of the muffin.

“By the way, you can't tell Even about this. I want the cake to be a surprise,” Isak says.

Magnus stares at the muffin for a moment, a sad grimace on his face, but then he sighs and nods.

“Yeah, okay. I get that. I don't want to ruin your birthday plans.”

“It's seriously a bit disturbing that this is a hard secret for you to keep. From _my_ boyfriend,” Isak drawls, but when Magnus rolls his eyes at him, he just grins back.

“Speaking of birthday – what are you getting him? Art shit?” Mahdi asks.

“I thought about it,” Isak says. “But it seemed a bit impersonal, you know? He doesn't really do that much art, and when he does, it's just with whatever's at hand. I've never seen him do anything with, like, special pens or something.”

“Doesn't mean he wouldn't like to,” Magnus points out, through a bite of muffin.

“Yeah,” Isak concedes, and then slumps in his seat with a sigh. “I just thought… we haven't known each other for _that_ long. I felt like buying him something I wasn't 100% sure about was a bit of a cop-out.”

“So you're just not getting him anything?” Magnus asks.

“Birthday sex,” Mahdi suggests with a lewd grin.

“Shut up,” Isak says, rolling his eyes and fighting a blush. “That's not a gift.”

“Well, not if you don't do anything special,” Mahdi keeps going with that same grin.

“Yeah, you can, like, let him tie you up or something,” Magnus suggests.

“I don't think Even would be into that, actually, he likes when I touch him,” Isak says.

Magnus and Mahdi freeze for a moment, the way they always do when Isak doesn't actually shy away from talking about what he and Even get up to in the bedroom, even if it's only a vague allusion, and even though he's started doing it more often recently. Then they both start grinning, and Magnus leans over the table to offer Isak a high-five.

“Alright, so maybe--” Magnus goes on, but Isak interrupts him with a shake of his head.

“No offense, but I don't need to know what kind of porn you watch,” he says.

Mahdi laughs as Magnus rolls his eyes, but leans back in his chair again, going back to his muffin. Isak feels inexplicably glad he did go through with making it for him.

“So, what are you getting him?” Mahdi asks again.

“I'm going to make one of those voucher booklet things,” Isak shrugs, trying not to shrink back. It's a cheesy idea, but he thinks it's something Even would like. He didn't think he'd have to talk about it to his friends, but that was probably naive of him. Of course they'd want to know what he's getting Even.

Magnus coos, and Mahdi grins at him.

“That's sweet,” he says. “Not sexy vouchers though, then?”

“Most aren't, but, I mean, a few maybe,” Isak says.

Mahdi and Magnus grin those knowing grins again, and Isak can't help but laugh a little helplessly. Yeah. He's getting laid pretty regularly.

“Happy for you, bro,” Mahdi says with a slight softening of his grin.

Isak smiles back. He's really happy for himself too.

 

On Saturday, Isak gets up before noon and joins Noora and Eskild in the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of cereal.

“Today's the big baking day,” Eskild comments with a slightly teasing grin. “Are you feeling up to the challenge?”

Noora smiles down into her scrambled eggs and veggies. Isak has no idea how she has her life together enough for this kind of breakfast.

“Yes, Eskild. I'm up to it. It's worked twice before,” Isak says, sitting down with them.

“Mind if we stay?” Noora asks, smiling at him.

“No, that's fine,” Isak says, smiling back. “But if Eskild is being a nuisance, he has to leave.”

Eskild gasps exaggeratedly. “You'd let Noora stay but not me?”

“Noora's nice, you're annoying,” Isak says, grinning and shrugging his shoulders.

“That's mean,” Eskild pouts, but Noora's smile turns surprised and pleased, and Isak smiles at her again.

It occurs to him that he's probably never told Noora he likes her, that he likes her being around, even if the flat's crowded. Though they live together, she's strangely the girl he feels he knows the least, out of Eva's group. He's friends with Eva and Sana, and Magnus' whole thing for Vilde, and the kosegruppe, mean he's somewhat friends with her as well. Chris will probably always be that girl who stared him down while sucking on her spoon in his mind, but she's in his physics class and she's actually hilarious.

“Thanks, Isak,” Noora says.

He shrugs it off and goes back to his cereal, but he feels a little lighter, somehow. It's a good morning, all in all.

“We should have a party for Even tonight,” Eskild suggests.

“A party?” Isak asks. It's not that Even and he never go to parties, and Even's turning twenty, so it'd be more than appropriate. It's just that Isak's not sure he's really in the mood for that tonight. And he's not sure how well that meshes with his idea of a birthday breakfast/brunch either, if they're both fighting hangovers. Plus, Even was out celebrating with his own friends yesterday.

“Well, not really a party. Something like we did for your kosegruppe maybe. You can call your boys, and Noora can call the girls, and maybe Linn will even come out of her room,” Eskild goes on. “We'll order in tons of pizza and watch movies.”

That, on the other hand, sounds nice, actually.

“I'll ask Even if he's up for it,” Isak says, and pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

 

**Even Bech Næsheim**

Eskild wants to host a get-together with the boys and Noora's girls here for you tonight. You up for it?

 

The bubble that tells him Even's writing a reply pops up immediately, and Isak smiles to himself at the sight of it. It's such a strange thing, how connected you can feel to someone over so much distance just because of something as silly as a little animated bubble that lets you know they're texting you.

 

**Even Bech Næsheim**

Yeah, sounds fun!

 

“He's up for it,” Isak says, glancing up at Eskild briefly to see him smile, clearly satisfied with himself.

 

**Even Bech Næsheim**

Great!

How's your hangover? haha

Fucking awful

So why are you up? Go back to sleep, baby

Miss you :(( can't sleep

Aww :((

Want me to call?

Sorry, no. My head is probably literally going to explode if I try and hold a conversation out loud.

Haha, wow

Not funny. I've turned into a lightweight, Isak!

Think of how much money it'll save you if you need less alcohol to get just as drunk!

I'll think of that once my head stops trying to birth Athena.

I'm going to google that and let you rest. Love you ❤

❤

 

Isak sighs and puts the phone away. His cereal's gone soggy.

“Everything okay?” Eskild asks.

“Yeah, fine,” Isak says.

“Did he say when he'd be over?”

“Um, no, but we said he'd come by at around six, originally. So, probably still that,” Isak says.

“So, what's the sigh for?” Eskild asks, eyebrows scrunched together in worry when Isak looks up.

“Just, um. He has a really bad hangover, and he's not really supposed to have a lot of alcohol, and. I don't know. He cut way down on it, and he said he's turned into a lightweight, so maybe he just gets hangovers from very little alcohol now, I don't know. I don't want to nag him, and he needs to be able to make these decisions by himself, but I still worry,” Isak confesses, purposely relaxing his shoulders from where he hadn't even noticed he'd hunched them up.

“Of course you worry,” Eskild says. “He's your boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but. That was, um, part of what drove him and Sonja apart, you know? That she always worried and he felt like she was trying to control him,” Isak explains. “And it's true! I wouldn't be worried like this if he weren't bipolar. I'm trying to treat him like I would anyone else, but--”

“Isak,” Noora interrupts, and Isak turns surprised eyes on her.

“Even isn't like anyone else,” she says, and when Isak scrunches up his brow and gears up to defend him, she holds up a hand.

“No, let me finish. I don't mean that in a bad way, but he just isn't. He's got an illness to live with that most people don't. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but it is a thing that you both need to work out how to deal with – individually and as a couple. Like you said, he needs to make these decisions by himself. Not just he needs you to let him, but he needs to learn how to make them for himself. He needs to work out what works for him,” she says.

Isak stares at her.

“It sounds like maybe he's still figuring it out, just as much as you are. You need to allow each other to misstep. If it really bugs you a lot, maybe talk about it with him and try to set up some boundaries so he won't feel controlled, and you won't feel so helpless.”

“Wow, Noora,” Eskild says after a moment of silence follows her speech.

Noora shrugs, a little uncomfortably, so Isak decides not to ask how she seems to know so much about this.

“Thanks, Noora,” he says instead, quietly.

They do have some boundaries set up, but maybe Isak needs to talk to Even anyway. He needs Even to understand that sometimes he's going to worry anyway, and that he'd always rather know Even's hungover and miserable than Even pretend he's not just so that Isak doesn't worry. Isak's overeager worry is Isak's issue, and if Even feels like it's veering into controlling territory, they need to be able to talk about that, even if it'll probably make them both feel like shit for a bit.

Man, relationships are _way_ harder than they look from the outside.

“You're welcome,” Noora says, and then gets up to put her dishes away, busying herself with it a little longer than she probably needs to.

“Anyway. If Isak's baking, we need music!” Eskild decides, and just like that the slightly somber atmosphere is broken. Five minutes later Isak's rolling his eyes at the Justin Bieber track Eskild and Noora are bopping along to, and turns away from them to hide his grin. At some point in the last few months this really became home to him, he thinks, and the thought doesn't even make him sad anymore the way it used to when he moved in last summer. Instead, it makes him feel lighter, more hopeful. Warm.

“Go on, Isak, show us what you got!” Eskild calls, and Isak grins at him when he grabs the flour from the shelf.

“You're not even ready for this,” he promises. “Prepare to be wowed.”

An hour later, when Isak pulls the cake out of the oven, perfectly even and a pretty golden brown, Eskild is appropriately wowed. Even Noora seems a little impressed. Isak can't help the beaming grin and asks Noora if she thinks it's a problem if he prepares the cream right now, so he only has to assemble later when the cake's cooled. Noora shakes her head and tells him that'll be perfectly fine. Eskild coos at him some more, and Isak doesn't even tell him off for it, just gets to whipping the cream and double checks he still has enough sprinkles leftover to cover the cake in.

Luckily, he gets the cake assembled early in the afternoon, and Noora helps him hide it in her shelf of the fridge, both her and Eskild promising to do their best to keep it a secret from Even. It's only then that Isak remembers he needs _other things_ as well for the breakfast he has planned, and takes a panicked trip to the store with Noora, who helps him pick a few things out and explains how to best make scrambled eggs. It's not actually that hard, and Isak's pretty confident he could do it without the explanation, but he really, really doesn't want to mess this up.

“It's very sweet, that you're planning all this so carefully,” Noora says quietly as they put the groceries away back home. Vilde's bossing people around hanging up a few balloons in the living room, because apparently you can't celebrate a birthday without balloons. Isak wrinkled his nose at the declaration, but he's given up on trying to stop her enthusiasm for appropriate decorations, so he just got out of her way and offered to help Noora in the kitchen instead. He's just glad they're gold and blue balloons, not the typical kids' party mix of primary colours.

“I just don't want to mess up,” Isak says with a shrug.

“Yeah, but still. William never--” she says and then breaks off with a wry grin. “Well.”

“Isak's always been a sweetheart,” Eva says from where she's sat by the table dumping the popcorn they bought into large bowls.

They've been friends again for a good two months now, but Isak's still surprised every time Eva says something nice about him. He'll probably not feel like he deserves it for a while yet.

“Remember at the cabin? Where you apparently were all stoned af?” she asks, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Isak laughs and straightens up from where he'd been crouched in front of the fridge with Noora.

“How did you not notice, Eva? Seriously,” he asks back.

Eva rolls her eyes and waves him off before turning to Noora to continue her story.

“Isak, stoned off his ass, was the only one who at least asked if I wanted any help making dinner, while my boyfriend was busy covering shitty rap songs with his weed dealer,” she recounts “God, Elias was a dick. If I'd known about the weed, I'd've hated him even more.”

“The weed was the only reason I didn't hate him all the time,” Isak says.

“Wait, you two agreed on something when it came to Jonas?” Noora teases, leaning against the kitchen counter

“We agreed on plenty when it came to Jonas, that was the problem,” Eva says with a teasing grin of her own and a wink at Isak.

Isak rolls his eyes.

“But, like, honestly, Isak? Even? Wow. Definite upgrade,” Eva says, fanning herself for effect.

Noora laughs and Isak can't help his own snort of laughter even as he feels a blush crawl up his neck. He knows his boyfriend is hot, but it's still strange when other people acknowledge it – especially the way Eva does, so brazenly.

“I'll tell Jonas you said that, shall I?” he teases.

Eva laughs.

“He'll probably get a kick out of how we have the same taste in guys, apparently,” she says and then breaks off, mouth falling open in apparent surprise.

“Oh my god,” she says, turning to Noora and flapping her hand at her excitedly. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, remember when we thought--”

“Chris?!” Noora asks, pointing at Eva with a grin that's just as excited.

They both whirl around to stare at Isak. This does not bode well for him, he's certain.

“Did you ever have a thing with Chris?” Eva asks, not one to beat around the bush.

Isak frowns in confusion.

“With the way she kept staring at me I assume she would have told you if we did,” he says.

Eva dismisses his answer with a wave of her hand.

“No, not Chris Berg, Chris _Schistadt_ ,” she clarifies.

Isak's spine goes rigid. Eva's eagle eyes catch it.

“Oh my god, did you?!”

“No!” Isak protests. “Chris and I only ever got together because of the Yakuza stuff, and hung out at a few parties, maybe.”

“Not even a kiss?” Eva asks. “Just one?”

Isak tries to laugh it off, but it sounds shaky even to his own ears and he ends up sighing.

“No, I... That whole thing with Jonas before Christmas sort of pushed me deeper back in the closet, I think. I would never have kissed a boy last spring.”

Eva's face goes from teasing to concern really fast.

“How do you mean?”

“Just, you know. Like, 'look what happens when you like a boy',” he says, shrugging his shoulders kind of rigidly.

Eva looks like she has no idea what to say to that, and Isak thinks he probably shouldn't have told her that. Not just between pop corn bowls and cake in the fridge, with their friends in the next room prepping a birthday hangout for his boyfriend. What he did was ugly, and he doesn't want to sound like he's trying to make excuses for it. Even if she said she's over it.

In his peripheral vision he can see Noora reach for him, but she pulls her hand back again, like she's unsure if she's allowed to touch him like that.

“Isak...” Eva tries.

Isak smiles at her and relaxes all his limbs.

“No, I know. I know it's not really like that. I made stupid choices because of a million ugly reasons, but the fact that I'm gay isn't one of them,” he says. “In a way it was just easier, to pretend like that was the problem.”

Eva's still frowning.

“Hey. I ended up upgrading, didn't I?” he jokes.

That has her cracking a smile.

“You really did, you dick. No one gets a first boyfriend as hot as yours, I hope you realise?” she teases.

Isak doesn't really like thinking of Even as his _first_ boyfriend, doesn't like the implication of a _second_ one who won't be Even, but that's… not particularly minute-by-minute, and, anyway, he knows that's not what she meant.

“I'm just really lucky like that,” he says with a shrug.

“Eva was convinced you were seeing Chris though,” Noora pipes up, sitting down by Eva's side.

“It wasn't an unreasonable assumption to make! And anyway, you're the one who brought it up,” Eva says.

“Me?” Noora asks, taken aback.

Isak decides to sit down with them. This seems to be continuing for a bit, and hovering in the middle of the kitchen just makes him feel awkward, even if it is his kitchen.

“Yes! You're the one who told me you saw him get into Chris' car that time,” Eva says.

“Oh, yeah,” Noora says, like she's only just remembering, and then turns to Isak. “Why did you get in his car?”

“To talk?” Isak says. Shouldn't that be obvious? “We weren't exactly going to discuss our plans to beat up some other Russ group in broad daylight, were we?”

“God, and then you gave him that call-me sign right there in the schoolyard that one time!” Eva remembers, eyes lit up with mischief. “I thought that was so brazen, you know.”

Isak can't help but laugh.

“And then you decided to try and hook up with Chris to see if he would turn you down,” Noora grins at Eva.

“Well, that's a spectacularly bad plan, given… you know...” Isak says, trailing off towards the end.

Eva rolls her eyes and grins.

“Well, I don't know! I thought, you know, maybe it was different with you,” she says. “And then when the fight was about to happen, we were literally just about to hook up when you called, so he, like, pulled away to take the call. It was such amazing timing.”

“Coincidence, Eva,” Isak says.

“Well, it made sense at the time,” she insists, and grabs a handful of popcorn from one of the bowls. “Plus, you gotta admit, he's handsome. You could do worse.”

“Yeah, but I am doing better,” Isak says, only to hear that scandalised laugh again.

“No need to rub it in,” Eva says.

Just then Vilde pops her head into the kitchen.

“Are you guys still not done? We still have a lot to prepare and Even will be here soon, I'm sure,” she says.

“We'll be right there, Vilde,” Noora says, and Vilde makes a noise like she doesn't believe them, and she's not pleased about it, but she turns around and leaves again anyway.

Isak can't help a fond little smile. That girl, honestly. Where does she get all this energy from?

“Just between us though,” he says as he turns back around to Eva and Noora, watching their eyes light up in a way that almost makes him want to laugh. “It's possible I did have a bit of a crush on Chris.”

“Ha!” Eva shouts triumphantly.

Isak grins and shrugs. “He is very handsome, and he was surprisingly nice to me, considering he was _Penetrator Chris_ and I was just this random first year kid.”

Eva's smile softens a bit. “Yeah, he is a nice guy, actually.”

“He'll hook up with anything pretty that moves,” Noora snorts.

“Aw, are you calling me pretty, Nooramor?” Eva teases, and Isak watches Noora scoff and brush her hair behind her ear with surprise blooming in his belly.

“You know you are,” Noora says, waving her hand as though it's a given fact.

Eva smiles, clearly pleased by the compliment.

“Well,” he says, grabbing the popcorn bowls. “I'll take these into the living room and let Vilde boss me around, shall I?”

“It's your boyfriend we're doing this for,” Noora points out.

“None of what Vilde's doing was my idea,” Isak says, and then turns on his heel, leaving them alone in the kitchen.

He remembers quite clearly, suddenly, when he'd asked Eskild why he had to assume everyone was gay. Now he can't help but wonder why he himself always assumed everyone was straight. Millenials are the gayest generation yet, right? Statistically, there should be a lot more than just Even, Eskild, and him in their group.

“There you are, Isak, can you hold this up, please?” Vilde says the moment he sets down the bowls of popcorn, on her tiptoes by the wall, trying to hold a paper banner that someone – probably Vilde – has painted the words 'Happy Birthday Even' on in blue, glittery letters. It's unbearably tacky and makes Isak think of every terrible American teen rom com he's ever watched. Even's probably going to love it.

“Sure, yeah,” he says, reaching up himself, and letting her squint at the banner from a distance, trying to work out if it's straight yet. Somehow, they manage to get everything set up to Vilde's satisfaction before the doorbell rings to announce Even's arrival. Isak hands his phone to Jonas and tells him to put some music on.

“Hi, baby,” Even greets him softly, an equally soft smile making his winter-red cheeks pop, when Isak opens the door to him.

“Hi,” Isak smiles himself, letting Even step into the flat beside him, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it while he watches Even untangle himself from the four hundred layers he's always wrapped up in. No one comes to fetch them, and Isak's glad to hear the happy chatter and music of all his friends in the other room. He's glad for a quiet moment with Even alone, even as he's glad that all his friends like Even enough to want to be here and sort of celebrate his birthday with him.

“Hi,” Even says again when he's done, turning to Isak and settling his hands on Isak's hips.

Isak tilts his chin up for a kiss, the cold of Even's lips a small shock, and the heat of his tongue another just after. He hums into the kiss a little, letting his hands trail up along Even's arms before he wraps his own around Even's neck. When they pull apart to lean their foreheads against each other, Even's smiling that besotted smile of his and Isak's sure his own matches it perfectly.

“Feel better?” Isak asks, carding gentle fingers through Even's hair.

Even chuckles quietly. “Yeah, much. I mostly slept all day.”

“Good,” Isak says. “If it gets to be too much, we'll just kick everyone out.”

“You'd pick me over all your friends?” Even teases, and Isak nuzzles their noses together, his own grin growing with the butterflies that Even somehow always brings to life in Isak's belly with that tone of voice.

“Any day,” he says.

“Any day? Really?”

“Well, maybe not if I was really pissed at you, but only to make a point,” Isak allows, letting Even laugh against his mouth before he swallows the sound up in another kiss.

“We should probably go in regardless,” Even says when his lips have warmed up again, a little more red and just slightly kiss-bruised.

“After you, birthday boy,” Isak says, letting Even step out of the circle of his arms and take his hand to walk them into the other room.

They're greeted by warm cheers and smiles, and enough pats on Even's back that Isak finally just detangles their fingers and steps back to watch it happen. Even declares they're going to binge watch as much of _The Get Down_ as they can get through because the second season's coming soon, and Isak smiles fondly and doesn't even rolls his eyes. They've watched it together before, and he knows it wasn't the first time Even's seen it so this is at least the third time he's watched it, but Even's turned him into the kind of person who enjoys rewatching things as well now, so he can't even judge him for that anymore. And anyway, it's really good, so he chimes in when Even summarises it for everyone, and promises the girls they're going to like it when they look a little sceptical at the way Even goes on about rap and music and the use of rhythm in the dialogue and the cinematography. It takes only half of the first episode for everyone to get caught up in it, and they call for pizza after the second, sitting through another two before it gets late enough for people to doze off. Even's eyes have even started drooping, so Isak turns the lights back on when the episode's over and ushers people out.

“Can I just crawl into your bed, Noora?” Eva mumbles from where she's slumped into the side of the sofa, tired eyes barely looking up at her friend.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Noora says, and goes to help Vilde collect her things. Isak boxes up leftover pizza to try and shove into the fridge somehow, and then helps Mahdi look for his phone _again._ Seriously, how does that boy always lose his phone? It's a good half hour after Isak's basically told everyone to get the hell out that Even corners him in the kitchen, boxing him in against the counter where Isak's emptying out cans of beer into the sink.

“I'm having déjà-vu,” he says.

Isak ducks his head and grins.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Even hums, arms wrapping around Isak's stomach and chest moulding to his back as he watches him empty out the last cans.

“You were really pissed at me that night,” he says.

“Well, you'd lured me into your apartment under false pretences and flirted with me all afternoon only to shove your tongue down your girlfriend's throat right in front of me,” Isak says. “I was embarrassed, and I didn't know what to make of any of your signals.”

“I'm sorry,” Even says, ducking to press a kiss to Isak's shoulder before turning him around in his arms.

Isak lets his own arms rest on Even's shoulders, toying with the hair at the base of his skull.

“It's okay, it's not like my own signals were all that clear either, probably,” he says.

Even smiles at him like that's maybe not the case, and Isak rolls his eyes. It's not his fault Even completely swept him off his feet.

“Either way we're here now,” he says.

“We're here now,” Even agrees. “And I can kiss you as much as I like.”

Isak laughs gently and tips his head up. “Is that what this is? You want a kiss?”

“Please,” Even says with a little smile of his own.

What's Isak to do except wrap his arms around Even more firmly and roll up onto his toes to kiss him more easily? Even's arms around his waist pull tight, anchoring him against Even's body and pulling him onto the very tips of his toes. They kiss languidly, all slow, gentle touches and no rush at all, until Even suddenly pulls back and buries a big yawn in Isak's hair.

“I think we're ready for bed,” Isak says.

They wash up side by side, and as they slip into bed, Isak sets an alarm for the morning, turning the sound as low as he dares before he puts it by his pillow. He doesn't want to wake Even, but he can't risk Even waking up before him either. Knowing Even, he'll get up and make Isak breakfast on his own birthday, and that's just unacceptable. So he kisses Even goodnight, snuggles into bed, and hopes for the best.

 

The next morning Isak manages to wake up two minutes before the alarm's set to go off and he barely refrains from doing a little fist pump in victory. Instead he cancels the alarm and stares at Even's sleeping face for a moment. They went to sleep at around midnight and it's eight thirty now. If he gets up, has a quick shower, makes breakfast… that'd be okay if he woke Even after, right?

“Isak?” Even mumbles sleepily, hand creeping over the sheets to reach for him.

Isak grabs it and gives it a squeeze and a kiss, settling back down into the pillow.

“Sh, go back to sleep, baby,” he says quietly, brushing hair away from Even's face.

Even smiles just the slightest bit and mumbles something that might be an 'okay'.

Isak watches him and waits until his breathing has evened back out. The morning light slips in through the curtains, but it's softer than the small strips of sunlight on the wall behind the bed that snuck past the sides of the curtains, and Isak watches the way it makes Even's skin glow; sleep and light making him softer. Isak curls his fingers around Even's in his gently, the need to squeeze and make sure his touch wouldn't make Even dissolve like a cloud or a dream almost unbearable. He can't believe he gets this. This beautiful boy sleeping in his bed, those lips to kiss, these hands to hold. This boy to _love_.

Before he gets too sappy and snuggles back into Even instead of getting up, he slides his hand out of Even's slackened grip, grabs some fresh clothes, and steals out of the room quietly. He showers as quickly as he can and towels his hair dry a bit roughly, not wanting to turn on the blow dryer. Instead he just runs a comb through his hair and decides to let it dry the rest of the way as it is.

No one's in the kitchen yet, and he smiles to himself a little as he pulls out eggs and a pan to get started. He loses himself in the rhythm of it, frying eggs and getting out a large plate to put them on and two smaller ones for them to have the cake on, some crispbread, salmon, cream cheese. He's pouring the sprinkles on top of the cake and wondering how he's going to get it all back into his room when he hears footsteps behind him and whirls around.

Noora lifts her hands in a placating gesture and smiles.

“Just me,” she says.

“Morning,” Isak says in response. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no. But I saw Even go into the bathroom just now, and told him to get back to bed and wait for you,” she says.

Isak nods thankfully and then turns back to the food. It's not a lot, but it's still more than he can carry by himself.

“It all looks delicious. Especially the cake,” Noora says, and then fishes a tray out from one of the cabinets, arranging the plates on it for him. Isak grabs a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and Noora hands him two glasses.

“Think you can manage?” she asks, teasing a little, and Isak laughs and then squares his shoulders.

“I'll do my best,” he says.

Noora smiles at him a little indulgently, like she can tell that he genuinely is doing his best, and he ducks back out of the kitchen before she can see him blush.

“There you are,” Even says when Isak shoulders his way back into his room, looking up from his phone.

His eyes go wide as he sees the tray in Isak's hands.

“What's this?” he asks, though there's already a smile blooming on his face, because he knows full well what it is. Has probably known ever since he woke up on his birthday and his boyfriend's flatmate told him to get back into bed.

“Breakfast,” Isak says with a helpless little smile, and carefully pads over to the bed, climbing onto it on his knees, and carefully setting the tray down in the middle of it when Even helpfully smoothes the duvet out for him.

Even stares down at the tray for a moment and then back up at Isak with those glittering stars in his eyes that make Isak's breath catch.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” Isak says, and leans in to peck Even's lips.

“You made this?” Even asks, swiping a bit of the cream off the side of the cake and popping it in his mouth.

Isak nods and settles in on the other side of the tray, crossing his legs. He reaches for the orange juice and pours them each a glass.

“I didn't know you could bake,” Even goes on, swiping a bit more cream.

Isak laughs and hands him a glass of orange juice.

“Neither did I, but it turns out that recipes are in Norwegian, and when you follow one not much can go wrong,” he jokes.

Even takes the glass and grins.

“Amazing, that,” he says.

“I, um, was out for groceries with Noora and the cashier wouldn't believe that I was old enough to buy sparkling wine, so...” he says, drawing out the 'o' and then trailing off, a little embarrassed.

Even laughs and clinks their glasses of juice together.

“I think we'll manage to celebrate adequately even without the bubbly,” he says.

Isak smiles back, helplessly charmed as ever, and takes a sip of juice.

“So, bløtkake?” Even asks.

Isak shrugs.

“I didn't want to be too ambitious for my first attempt at baking, and who doesn't like bløtkake?”

Even nods, not even trying to convince Isak that, sadly, he hates bløtkake and, while it was a nice thought, Even won't be touching it.

“And the eggs?”

“With a spoonful of sour cream. I've been told it's the secret ingredient,” Isak grins, and Even laughs, delighted, as he reaches for one of the forks and the plate of them.

“Um, do we just… share?” he asks, hesitating.

Isak waves at him to just go on. “Yeah, we'll share. Dig in. I can always make more, if we want.”

“You're amazing,” Even says, and leans over for a quick kiss before he digs into the eggs, making a pleased little humming noise.

Isak's chest feels chock full of butterflies and a glowing warmth, his heart squeezing out past his ribs. He's sure it's about to burst through his skin any moment now.

“You know, I was sure you were going to wake me up with something naughty,” Even says between two bites of eggs, eyebrows doing that thing of his where he flicks them up just once.

Isak laughs.

“Were you?”

“Yeah,” Even says. “I don't know why. But this is even better.”

And there goes the rest of Isak's insides. He's 100% made up of sunshine and love now. If you cut him open he would glow, he's sure of it.

“Yeah?” he asks.

Even's smile softens like he's glowing on the inside too, and he leans over for another, slightly buttery, kiss.

“Yeah,” he says. “I love being quiet with you.”

“Me too,” Isak says, and finally reaches for a piece of crispbread and the cream cheese. Even leans in expectantly when Isak's done artistically draping the thinly sliced salmon on top, and Isak rolls his eyes but lets Even have the first bite of it, watching the down-up swoop of his eyelashes at the first taste of it.

It's when they've finished the eggs and bread, and Even reaches for the knife to cut the cake, that Isak decides to grab his gift.

“Hang on,” he says, and Even watches him curiously as he bounces up from the mattress, walking over to his shelf and grabbing the small but meticulously wrapped package from it.

“You got me a gift?” Even asks as Isak hands it over, like he's genuinely surprised.

“Of course I got you a gift,” Isak laughs, sitting back down. “What, you thought I wouldn't? I got you something for Christmas.”

“Yeah, I just. I don't know?” Even says, laughing a little. “Can I open it now?”

“Sure, whenever you want,” Isak says with a little shrug.

Even turns the package over in between his hands a little, feeling it out like he's trying to guess what it is.

Isak grins to himself. Homemade was the right way to go, he's sure of it now. There's no way Even's going to guess it right, and the surprise is half the fun of a good gift, isn't it?

“Cake first,” Even finally decides, setting the gift down and grabbing the knife again.

Isak laughs. “Alright. However you wanna do it.”

“You're gonna spoil me,” Even warns.

Isak waves him off. “It's only today, don't worry.”

Even laughs and leans over to kiss him, grabbing his face with one hand and pressing their lips together firmly. Isak lets it linger a little, opens his mouth and sucks one of Even's lips in between his own just briefly, just for the joy of seeing it spit-slick when Even pulls back.

“That comes later,” Even says, voice dipping down into a slightly lower register before he gives Isak another kiss.

Then he cuts the cake.

Isak holds his breath through it, and beams to himself when it all holds together, nothing leaking out unseemly or falling apart. Even laughs at him a little when he notices, but serves them each a slice.

“I can't believe you baked for me,” he says, fork poised above the cake.

Isak shrugs, a little embarrassed all of a sudden.

“It just felt so… impersonal, just buying one at a shop,” he says.

“You're so sweet,” Even says, smile just as sweet, and then finally goes to have a bite of cake.

Isak watches him, perhaps a little too closely, and Even does him the favour of letting all his reactions play out on his face – perhaps a little exaggeratedly. Isak doubts the cake is as good as the flutter of Even's eyelashes and the pleased, humming moan he makes would have him believe, but he laughs, and digs his foot into Even's side with a teasing grin when Even looks at him.

“What, it's good,” Even defends himself, eyes sparkling brightly.

“I'm sure,” Isak says drily, and then turns to his own slice of cake.

It _is_ good. Even better than the first one, though that might just be the sleep-tousled, bathed-in-sunshine company in his bed. Much as he loves his boys, they don't hold a candle to this boy in this moment.

Even raises a questioning eyebrow as he catches Isak's look, and Isak only smiles and shakes his head.

“I love you,” he says with a small shrug.

Even laughs gently and drops a hand to give Isak's ankle, still by his side, a little squeeze.

“I love you too.”

They finish their cake in silence, and Isak takes Even's plate from him so he can turn his attention to his gift.

“I have no idea what this could be,” he says, “but supposedly the smaller the gift, the better, right?”

“It's not jewellery,” Isak laughs.

“Damn,” Even says with a grin, and peels the sticky tape loose carefully.

Isak watches him unwrap the paper and toss it aside, a smile breaking out over Even's face as he reads the cover page of the little tacked together booklet of vouchers Isak has made for him. Most of them are just everyday little things – a footrub, a lunch, a series of dates to choose from. Some _are_ sex related, but it's nothing they haven't done before. It's more the fact that Isak has given them to him, the fact that, while technically they _can_ always ask each other for sexual favours, Even now has a piece of paper that guarantees him a blowjob whenever he chooses (unless, of course, Isak really isn't in the mood), that makes excitement tingle in the pit of Isak's belly.

Even flips through them carefully, reading and admiring each one of Isak's hand drawn, er, masterpieces. The last one is blank, a voucher for one [fill in blank here] of Even's choosing. Another date, a chore Isak would do for him, a sexual favour – whatever he wants. Isak wasn't sure about it at first. The idea seemed great when he first had it. An intimate gesture of trust. It had only really hit Isak when he'd spelled it out that he was literally handing Even a carte blanche to ask anything of him. It's not that he's worried about what Even's going to do with it, but he'd suddenly worried it was maybe a bit… much. They've only been dating for two months, and even though they've been saying “I love you” for almost all that time, in the quiet of his bedroom it had suddenly felt huge.

“Isak...” Even says, staring at the last page, the blank page, for a little longer, like he understands what Isak meant to do.

Isak bites his lip and waits for Even to look up and look at him. When he does, his eyes are brimming with emotion and his smile is that soft, gentle one that tugs at Isak's heartstrings and makes him hurt a little.

“Thank you,” he says. “I love it.”

Isak smiles and leans over for another kiss.

“I'm glad,” he murmurs against Even's lips, and lets himself be pulled in with Even's arms around his waist, climbing into his lap.

“So, about those naughty things you thought I'd do...” he says, kissing along the line of Even's jaw, hands following the planes of his chest down to the hem of the t-shirt he slept in.

Even laughs quietly.

“What about them?” he asks, his own fingers slipping inside the waistband of the joggers Isak put on.

“Anything specific you had in mind? It is your birthday after all,” Isak says.

“Does that mean I get to choose?” Even teases, pulling back and boring his dark eyes into Isak's.

“Yeah. All you have to do is ask,” Isak promises.

Even ducks his head to mouth at the column of Isak's neck, and grabs his waist more firmly. He leans Isak back until he's splayed out on top of the duvet, curls falling around his face and over the blue bedspread as he stares up at him. Even carefully grabs the breakfast tray and sets it down on the floor next to them and then stretches out on top of Isak, reconnecting their lips and winding Isak's arms up around Even's neck.

“I can think of a thing or two.”

 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> So, who saw all this closet and coming out talk coming in a fic ostensibly about birthday cake?? Not me that's who. Let me know what you thought! :D


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